


The Way To Jump Start My Heart

by AdelineAround



Series: You Like (Blue) Razz? [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Gavin, Cunnilingus, Flavored Lube, Gavin as GV200, Hank as HK800, M/M, Oral Sex, Plastic Protective Coochie Strip, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sexual Interfacing, Simultaneous Orgasm, Squirting, Top Hank, Trans Gavin Reed, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Wire Play, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/pseuds/AdelineAround
Summary: Gavin, Hank thinks. The GV200's name is Gavin.Two androids meet during the revolution on ship Jericho. Months later, they find each other again, with an electric spark that bursts into passionate flame within both of them.





	The Way To Jump Start My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rocktrumpet (paperchimes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperchimes/gifts).

> It's Hank's birthday, so he deserves to get laid. It's also my birthday, and I deserve to... indulge in coochie strips.  
Big thanks to Cest for encouraging me to finally write some solo Hankvin, because I haven't yet and I've been meaning to for an entire year.

It’s been a while since GV200 had been seen.

During the revolution, there was no guarantee the android would even survive with the streets behind flooded with military personnel, guns blazing like artificial life was just target practice. HK800- no, his name is Hank now- had done everything in his power to stop it. Markus, the one who lead androids into a peaceful protest, the one who helped guide Hank into deviation, had convinced the president to stand down. But that required sacrifice. Thousands of androids were lost in the fight for equality, and Hank had thought GV200 dead until the electrician android showed up at the front of the precinct Hank worked at.

They had met in Jericho, with GV200 bumping into Hank first. They did not talk much, except for the polite “sorry” that automatically came from Hank’s lips. GV200 has reached down to interface with Hank instead, just briefly, leaving Hank with his information and a snarky, ill tempered, “Watch where you’re going.” Hank will not repeat the profanity that came after that.

GV200 must have watched the news recently in order to find Hank at the Detroit City Police Department. A couple of months ago, the HK800 was invited to join Markus and his advisors on a trip to the capitol. They’d met with the president, signing an agreement act to ensure androids were to be tried fairly as any other living entity. Sure, it would take time to have the government to see them as full citizens of the country, but it was a start.

And, of course, it was helpful to have the press swarming around the White House, giving Hank, Markus and his remaining group of advisors as much exposure as they could possibly want. News channels broadcasted each member’s story, or at least as much of what they knew about them. The ship Jericho may have sunk, but those who made Jericho what it is today still held strong.

That explains why GV200 is now in the precinct lobby, swearing up a storm at the receptionist. HK800 steps out of the bullpen, assessing the situation. When his large figure attracts the other android’s attention, the cussing stops, and the droning sound of the TV takes its place.

“GV200,” Hank greets the electrician android. He turns to the front desk receptionist, “I can handle this, Cassandra. Thank you.”

“It’s ‘Gavin’ now,” the GV200 model corrects, crossing strong arms over his chest. He refers to Cassandra, “And she wouldn’t let me see you. Said the pigpen was for authorized personnel only.” He accentuates his words with air quotes, just like a human would do.

Hank gives Cassandra one more apologetic look before replying, “It’s called a bullpen,” he corrects. “Why don’t we talk somewhere else, Gavin?” Using Gavin’s new name, he decides he likes the way it rolls off his tongue. The name suits the electrician. “My shift is done for the day and I requested tomorrow off the schedule, as well.”

Gavin stares at him warily. “You did?”

“I thought I could use a rest day.” Hank nods towards the reception desk. Cassandra nods back in nonverbal confirmation. He moves towards the door, relieved when Gavin follows him. He holds it open for the android. “After you.”

Gavin opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, then shuts it. With a neutral frown, he walks past Hank without a word, waiting for what is to come next. Rain pours down on the both of them. It is the middle of autumn, where the skies of Detroit become grey with rain clouds, dumping their tears upon asphalted earth below. Though it does not affect Hank or Gavin much, it does manage to get their clothes damp.

It is a minute later that a cab pulls up to the side of the curb, unlocking and opening its passenger doors for the androids. Hank embarks the automated taxi, gesturing for Gavin to follow suit.

“You ordered us a ride?” Gavin asks. He climbs in as well, sitting next to Hank in the backseat of the vehicle. “This is too hoity-toity for me.”

Hank says, “And make you walk in the rain? You deserve a little more respect than that.”

“No, I-” Gavin is about to counter, but closes down on his bottom lip as soon as Hank eyes him. “I… you don’t need to pamper me. I’m not an expensive prototype like you, who panics about short-circuiting from a little cloud water.”

“Clouds _are_ made of water…” Hank begins, but quickly aborts his explanation when Gavin gives him a very nonplussed look. “Never mind. I just thought it would be nice to take you somewhere that I know will be enjoyable for the both of us.”

Gavin shifts in his seat as the cab begins to drive away from the DPD, advising its guests to wear their seatbelts in case of emergency. Hank obeys, but Gavin chooses to ignore the advisory. “And we couldn’t just walk to the place you want to take us?” He squints, and Hank notices the faint scar that travels from his right eyelid, diagonally across his nose and over his left cheek. That wasn’t there the last time they’d met each other in passing. “We aren’t weak like humans, Hank. I got legs that are good for up to fucking 100,000 miles.”

Hank sighs, “Do you absolutely need to walk, though? Out in that storm looming ahead?” They glance out the window to see a dark thunderstorm on the horizon. “We are no less prone to being struck by lightning, but at least we are somewhat safe in this car. I thought you would like a break from doing things, Mr. Electrician.”

“_Ex-_electrician,” says Gavin, his face scrunching up at the nickname. He huffs unhappily, “I hated my job. It was the worst thing, setting up circuits all around the city for nothing. Even when the city offered to pay, it just wasn’t worth my time doing something I hated like hell every day.”

Hank hums. “So, what are you doing now?”

Gavin throws his hands in the air, slouching in the backseat. “Fuck if I know! I’m just trying to get by, now that we have _all this freedom_. Thank Ra9, praise Robo Jesus. ”

“You don’t seem happy about the revolution,” Hank scoffs, but does not take the GV200’s words too personally. After all, Gavin always seems like he is in a bad mood.

Gavin shakes his head, LED cycling a golden hue. His voice is a little softer when he admits, “I’m not… unhappy.” He says, “What exactly am I supposed to do now that I don’t have a purpose, as stupid as my job was? I went to the revamped Cyberlife. I got the upgrades to make me more human, and yet I can’t find a damned thing that will make this time I have worth while.”

“So you came to me,” Hank concludes.

Shrugging, Gavin says, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt. I gave you my information in Jericho, remember?”

“I do, but I’m not completely sure why you-”

In awful timing, the cab stops in front of a building, chiming to notify both androids that they have arrived at their destination. Both Hank and Gavin leave the vehicle for the rain. They walk just a little bit, down the street until they stand under a deep red awning and a glass door that is highly tinted for privacy.

“We’re here.” Hank reaches for the entrance, but the GV200 is quick on his reflexes, grabbing the handle and swinging it open with gusto.

“After you,” Gavin sing-songs, repeating Hank’s words from earlier.

“You’re funny, you know that?” Hank grins before leading the way. When Gavin sidles up next to him as they walk into the establishment, he holds eye contact and says, “But thank you.”

This time, Gavin looks away. “Yeah, ‘s nothing.”

The lighting is dim, warm toned, but Hank swears he can see a semblance of a cyan blush spreading over the android’s cheeks. He chooses not to say anything about it, uncertain whether he’d seen it or not, because they arrive at the main hall where music plays and dozens of androids sit at tables or dance with one another to the rhythm. Hank bypasses all of that for the bar counter, finding him and Gavin a seat. He points his bearded chin at the bartender, who blinks back, registering Hank’s order, and gets to work on it right away.

Gavin takes the liberty to plop himself down on the barstool. He moves his head around, almost astounded by the atmosphere that seems to envelope them. “Nice, uh, place, I guess.”

“I find it a little more cozy than human bars.” Hank thanks the bartender as he delivers an artistic looking palette holding ten neat glasses of deep cobalt liquid.

“You’ve been to human bars before?” Gavin’s eyes bulge, knowing that bars are still strictly android-prohibited.

“Well, only one,” Hank confesses, chuckling. “I hope you didn’t refill on your thirium before you came to see me. They’ve got quite the array of experimental drinks here.”

“What’s so experimental about thirium?” Gavin asks in earnest.

Sliding a shot glass over to the GV200, Hank prompts, “Go ahead. Try it.”

Gavin picks up the small glass, examining the thirium inside it before throwing it back. He sets it down a moment later, an astonished expression overcoming his otherwise resting face.

“It sparks in my mouth,” he describes the drink, stupefied. “How the fuck does it spark in my mouth?”

“It’s new technology. They synthesize the thirium twice over, with a kick to it at the end.” Hank swallows his own shot of sparky blue juice. “Pretty good, right?”

Gavin eyes the other nine glasses of cobalt. “Are all of them like that?”

“Like what?”

Hank studies Gavin’s face. His model although rugged to create more character, is handsome. The manufactured stubble creates shadow and depth to a pleasant face. Heavy brows make him serious so people make take his word as such. And then the scar. It must have cut deep to leave such a mark like that on the android’s face. He wonders what had happened during the revolution to cause such an infliction upon Gavin’s visage.

Gavin gestures in the air, seeming not to find the right word. “Like, _sparky_, or whatever. I don’t know.”

Hank chortles softly at Gavin’s lack of description and filler words, but it is by no means badly intended. “No, not all of them. I got us a flight tray to try different variations of thirium mixes.”

“A-a flight,” Gavin repeats, grey-green eyes hazing over a moment as the blue ring blinks in succession. He must be searching up the term. Then, he goes clear again, smiling devilishly. “I gotta try them all.”

Hank plucks two more glasses from the palette, handing one to the GV200. “By the end of tonight, you will.” He holds his up. “Cheers.”

“Uh,” Gavin mirrors Hank’s actions, clinking the rims of their drinks together like in the movies. “Cheers.”

This time, the thirium goes down smooth without any sort of electric fizz or spark to it. Hank thoroughly enjoys this one because it is as close to human booze as they can get. A warm burn smolders in the back of his throat, trickling down his artificial esophagus. He sucks at his palate, savoring the last vestiges that coat his mouth. A few seconds later, and a pop-up in his HUD notifies him of a 0.03 second lag between his internal commands and the rest of his biocomponents. A slight fuzziness overcomes his central computer system like static in the shape of a cloud, his peripheral vision decreasing by a whopping 10.276%.

Gavin, by the looks of it, is experiencing the same things, but shoots the other android a puzzled look that might mean to say, “What the hell did I just put into my body?”

Hank doesn’t need him to say anything, because he goes on to explain, “This one emulates the effects of alcohol consumption in humans. They like to call the feeling we’re experiencing now as being ‘buzzed’.”

Gavin, still new to all of this, blinks, replying slowly, “Shit. No wonder they get so fucked up drunk. How many beers is equivalent to this shot of EtOH-like thirium we just drank?”

“About two or three beers for the average human,” says Hank nonchalantly. The alcohol-like thirium numbs his processors, making it harder to articulate, but he tries anyway. “Ready for the next one?” he asks.

They end up downing one after another, Hank briefly explaining what each one is to Gavin as the GV200 takes in all the effects of the double-synthesized thirium shots. Seeing that there isn’t much to talk about the android revolution itself, Hank opts for different topics, mostly talking about his work partner, Connor, whose respect he’d managed to earn. He even gets Gavin to open up about himself a little about what he’s been up to besides mope around the new Jericho, talking to seldom anyone besides a friend named Tina Chen (who is presumably human, Hank thinks, from the stories told). He even cracks a dry joke once or twice throughout the time they are talking at the bar.

The more time they spend talking, the more Hank can visibly see Gavin relax. His shoulders are no longer tense, neck not so rigid. Gavin’s eyes do not dart with caution under a harsh glare like they once did. As Gavin laughs at his own shitty pun, Hank cannot help but take in the way Gavin tips his head back; the way Gavin’s synth-skin crinkles at the edges of his lids, how the smile travels from his perfect teeth to the apples of his cheeks. He is handsome in the dim lighting of the facility, so carefree when all Hank has ever known him as disgruntled and unhappy with his newfound deviancy. The HK800 is sympathetic however; he too, at one time, had felt similarly about being “awake”. The difference was that Gavin never asked to be woken up from his default programming. Instead, he was touched by Markus, deviated on the spot whilst working and followed the trail to the ship Jericho without much more thought. To be cynical and feel lost is something Gavin has every right to, Hank thinks. He is just glad the GV200 has found some relief, however short-term it may be, between his internal struggle for purpose in his reformed life.

Or maybe it is the twice-synthesized thirium running through his system that allows Hank to think this way. He supposes that maybe it is both his personality and the thirium affecting his thoughts and feelings about Gavin, yet it does not bother him that, in the corner of his HUD, he can see the level of bonding with the other android climbing steadily.

“Have you ever interfaced before?”

“Huh?” Hank, who’d zoned out looking at Gavin’s beautiful face, snaps back to reality.

Gavin sighs. So human-like. “I said, have you ever interfaced before?”

“I have,” admits Hank. “Especially when I needed to obtain information for one of my investigative cases-”

“No, not like that.” Gavin splays his hands out upon the bar’s countertop. “I meant like, I dunno, _interfacing_-interfacing. Like how Markus, Simon, Josh and North do it.”

“I…” The little circle of light on Hank’s right temple flashes a sharp yellow as he remembers how Markus and North interfaced in front of the media on the last day of the revolution. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Gavin swipes at the final shot of thirium in the flight, but doesn’t put it down the hatch just yet.

Hank takes his own drink betwixt his fingers, holding it up to Gavin’s before both of them gulp the liquid down. This last one makes the cogs in Hank’s system turn faster, energy boosting and his systems firing better, counteracting the numbing shot they’d taken earlier. His system flushed hot with the question, unable to control the right side of his central computer. What seem to be premonitions are just Hank’s “imagination”, but feel all the same to him; they fill Hank’s head with Gavin’s bare body contorting in pleasure, eyes flashing and fluttering with unbidden ecstasy.

When he clears his palate, he speaks, “I have, just once. Interfaced like that, I mean.”

Gavin’s mossy eyes go wide with wonder, face no longer guarded. “You have? Why? How? Was it good?”

“Whoa, slow down, Gav,” Hank says, the nickname for Gavin slipping out of his mouth before he could stop it. “One question only. I’ve never talked about this.”

The android scowls at the fact that he has to choose what to ask wisely. Then, he finally opens his mouth, “Would you ever interface with me?”

Whatever pre-constructions made in the few seconds Hank had between his response and Gavin’s did not prepare him for this new question. He allows himself to blink a few times, recalculating as he feels put on the spot. One false reply, and Hank could offend Gavin and have to reap the ugly consequences.

“Gavin…” he begins. But Hank doesn’t have enough time to give an answer, an answer that he would most likely give it a shot, because two soft lips descend on his own in the moment.

The kiss is too blunt and straightforward to be enjoyable, but it is filled with inexperience and chasteness; meaningfulness. It’s like Gavin has never laid his mouth upon another being, especially another android. However, it is _not_ unwanted. Hank quickly overcomes the initial shock of an unexpected kiss, sliding his blue eyes shut so he can just feel.

Their lips slide together, brushing over each other in a sweet embrace. Skin over skin, Hank takes it further by opening up his mouth the tiniest bit. He traces over Gavin’s bottom lip, gentle and slow, asking silently for permission, and groans in relief when the GV200 grants him access.

Tongues, first shy, slowly meet in the middle. They mingle together, dancing for one minute before Gavin gains confidence and dips deeper. Hank rumbles contently low in his throat, letting the android explore further. They race from each mouth, to and fro, going over every nook and cranny. It is sloppy, inexperienced, yet exquisite enough that Hank is craving more.

He places a hand on Gavin’s high cheekbone, stroking it gently with the tip of his thumb before going lower when Gavin hums against his lips. Carefully, he trails to the side of the android’s jaw, feeling the artificial stubble that covers his mandible. The gasp that Gavin lets out when Hank travels to his neck does not go unnoticed, and the HK800 stores that in the compartment of his memory bank as vital information. His hand becomes more daring, taking the chance to cup the nape of Gavin’s neck, palm firmly pressing against the neck port.

In that moment, a sound akin to metal grinding against metal reverberates out of Gavin’s mouth and smashes into Hank’s lips, shocking them both. Hank pulls away first, concern written over his features.

“Are you okay?” is what he hears himself asking.

Gavin stares at him with wide eyes. Finally, he says, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He covers the back of his neck with a hand, making the mistake of rubbing his neckport. A moan, so soft that it might have been swallowed by the surrounding bustle of the bar if not for Hank’s keen ears picking up the sound, slips from Gavin’s voice box.

“It’s getting warm in here,” Hank changes the subject. It is way too busy in here for Gavin and him, especially with the pale blue blush starting to tint Gavin’s ears and cheeks. He quickly pays for the drinks via online network. “Come on. Let’s see if the rain ’s stopped.”

They do not so much as hurry out as they stumble over their own feet, still a little inhibited by the effects of the drinks they’ve had. Hank gets them out to the awning before Gavin finds his words, “Hank, wait.”

Everything halts to a stop as soon as Hank registers the command, turning around at the sound of Gavin’s voice so fast that he almost gives himself whiplash. It is still raining, the water drops pelting the awning’s fabric deafeningly. The concrete beneath their shoes are completely wet, running down the small slope of the ground that is slightly uneven. Gavin draws near Hank as the HK800 takes in his new surroundings, temporarily distracted by the war of weather around them.

Gavin puts himself point-blank in front of Hank, leaving no room for Ra9 as their bodies press together, Gavin’s chest to Hank’s diaphragm. He looks handsome even in the dark, with his stormy, olive-drab eyes seeming to glow. The vertical halo that rests on Gavin’s right temple casts a steady yellow, cycling over and over like the android is trying to process or convey something.

Neither android says a thing as they stand there, temporarily safe from the rain, locked gazing into each other’s eyes like there is enough time in the world to stay here forever. In the corner of Hank’s HUD, he can see the temperature has dropped, chilled by the storm and wind happening around them; the rain rapidly cooling the earth. Gavin’s and his simulated breaths move out from their bodies and into the atmosphere around them, visualized as misty puffs of air. Those billows of positive pressure air swirl together, becoming one until Hank cannot ignore it.

And then Gavin is offering his hand, palm out and inviting, waiting for Hank to take it and mimic what the clouds of breath are doing. Gavin’s pupils are so large that Hank can see the burning red retinal rings in the back of the GV200’s sockets. He is inviting Hank to interface with him, intentions so clear that it would make Hank an idiot to not acknowledge the offer.

Time slows as he brings his own hand to Gavin’s. Their synthetic nanoskin retracts, crawling away to reveal alabaster endoskeleton from both entities. Lightning strikes across the sky, adding a flash of purplish-white that reflects off their naked hands. Fingertips to fingertips, palms to palms, thumbs to thumbs, both Hank and Gavin jolt the slightest bit when they end the gap between them.

Information flows through their bodies, free flowing like a river filled with the sweetest of waters. Unspoken words are exchanged in packets of data, latching to each gig of cloud memory that Hank and Gavin now share. Within, there is so much lust and want and need… and love.

In his physical being, Hank’s eyebrows rise when Gavin sends over all the times he’d thought about Hank, unable to get the HK800 out of his thoughts when all they’d done was jostle against each other once on the ship during the revolution. More information, more binary and code, reveals him to the recognition that he is feeling the same. He wants more of Gavin. He wants to get to know him, needs to explore him and commit him to memory. He craves the android, loves the connection between them and the way he feels once he gets past the prickly exterior of Gavin’s artificial make-up. They have so much to traverse and mark on and in one another. It could take all night, and Hank would gladly say yes to it.

But not here. Not when it is raining cats and dogs, under an awning that stands in front of an android establishment. He wants Gavin in bed, where they can do more than just kiss if Gavin allows it.

Gavin seems to have the same idea, or maybe it is because Hank can send his message without so much as a full sentence through their interfacing. Twining their fingers together, the GV200 pulls Hank out into the rain.

They run. Thunder shakes the earth as lightning blazes the night sky, the storm catching up to them as they sprint. They get soaked down to the endoskeleton, clothes ruined and hair sopping, but Hank can’t seem to care. A heavy storm warning flashes in his notifications, and he whisks it away quickly. Too caught up in the excitement, he does not even know where Gavin is taking them, but he can only assume it is to a place warmer and safer than outside in the elements.

Gavin leads them into an apartment complex, drab and wet in the dark of the night. They head for the stairs, bounding up two flights until they reach an entryway. Gavin produces a hologram of his ID on his free forearm and scans it through the access point.

It all happens so fast; as soon as the door clicks unlocked, Gavin all but kicks it open, pushing Hank to the hallway wall with a desperate kiss. Hank kisses back, messy and powerful, body against Gavin’s when Gavin keeps their hands tangled. They share a quick moment with each other, but this hallway is not their final destination for the night.

_Come on,_ he says through their connection. Hank ends their interface so Gavin can have both hands free.

With a bit of scrabbling, Gavin gets them to his apartment. He fumbles with his pants pockets, searching for his keys when he feels Hank’s beard slide over his neck, soft lips leaving pecks along the edges of his neckport. He moans, losing focus, fingers lagging against his keyring. He can’t help himself when his voice glitches, coming out in broken, low syllables. Hank’s hips grind ever so slightly against Gavin’s clothed, damp ass, both of them still dripping from the rain. In his own jeans, he is growing hard, the article of clothing that once felt like they fit are becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the second. He wants Gavin. He needs Gavin. He-

Gavin manages to fish out his keys and let them into his place, thirium pump racing when he barely has enough time to shut the door before Hank and he are on each other. He leads them to the bedroom where the automated lights flick on for them, too aroused and hurried to care that their shoes are leaving muddy tracks on his mediocre carpets. It is only then that the thought of taking off clothes and shoes sounds like a great idea when the back of his knees hit the edge of his decorative bed. And it is then that Gavin realizes he’s never done something, anything like this before.

But then Hank is drawings squares around his neckport, teasing Gavin so tenderly that Gavin has no doubts or emotions that says he doesn’t want this. Something not unlike a purr vibrates through his larynx, swarming in the air around both androids. He’s never felt this way before, let alone purred like one of those sanctuary leopards seen on the internet. The feeling of his neck being touched starts a burn in his loins, warm like a fire.

Hank takes the hint, fingers roaming over his neck like they are mapping out treasure. Gavin whines, the metal-against-metal wail emitting from him when Hank digs a nail between the neckport edge and the endoskeleton. The neckport door hisses, sliding open to reveal his internal wiring. 

“You sound so good, Gavin,” Hank whispers.

With Gavin’s neckport open, he takes the liberty to delicately insert two fingers, stroking the blue and red bunches of wires amongst the plastic and titanium inner biocomponents. Gavin makes the noise again, face contorted in a pleasure that is already so intense.

They link fingers again, connecting in more ways than one as Hank wiggles his phalanges over what is considered Gavin’s cervical spine. Then, Gavin opens up his receptor channel to share with Hank’s. There is a few seconds delay before Hank notices a difference, but when it hits, it takes him aback. He can feel everything Gavin is feeling, hear his thoughts doubly as clear and experience what the GV200 is going through whilst still being himself. Hell, he can feel his own fingertips brush against his and Gavin’s neck.

_Hank, more._ Gavin keens, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the smoldering in his nether regions. To Hank, it feels restrained somehow, like there is something blocking Gavin from peak ecstasy.

Though curious, Hank does not ignore the fact that both he and Gavin are still in their rained on clothing. Perhaps that is what is stopping Gavin; dampening the pleasure for him.

“Clothes off,” Hank suggests, once again releasing Gavin’s hand in favor for undoing his tie.

Shoes topple to the ground like unwanted bricks. Wet shirts are flung from their bodies hastily, a wet slap sounding when the articles hit the floor. Gavin will make a point to clean it up later, but for now, his attention is solely on Hank as he shimmies out of his pants to reveal the largest penile biocomponent the GV200 has ever seen. His systems estimate it much bigger than the average human male, thickest in the middle yet still sturdy all around. It is hard, flushed a pretty pinky hue that gets deeper in tone towards the head. Shiny liquid, of what seems to be a lubricant to emulate the same effect as precum, leaks from the tip of Hank’s massive cock, dribbling in a way that makes Gavin lick his lips in anticipation. His mouth tries to chase it, wrap his lips around the head in a daring act to imitate porn, but Hank draws away before he can do so. Gavin frowns, reaching for it then, only to have his hands held by the wrists and let go. 

When Hank looks at him, he stares in confusion, “What?”

Hank shakes his head. “I can’t be the only one in the buff.” He gestures at Gavin’s pants. “I want to see you.”

If Gavin could say something, he would, but the emotions swirling in his mind are a jumbled mess, not coherent enough to be formed into a complete sentence. Instead of talking, he looks away, almost bashful as he begins to undo his pants.

Hank observes as Gavin undoes the class of his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it to the floor with slightly shaky hands. The button is undone next, zipper clamorous in the silence of the bedroom. The GV200’s glances at Hank briefly before he slides his pants down toned, muscular legs. 

He looks gorgeous, tanned and sculpted standing in front of Hank. His abs chiseled and v of his hips prominent under nanoskin. Hank lets his eyes trail downward, down the trail of curls from Gavin’s navel and lower… until it stops on something translucent and plastic-looking. He cannot register exactly what it is; Hank kneels down, crawling towards Gavin to get a closer look.

“Hank, I-” Gavin tries to cover his genitals with his hands, only for Hank to swat them away from his view.

Is that..? Hank smirks when he identifies what the plastic covering Gavin’s sex is: a plastic protective film, made to cover and protect new biocomponents from particles that could potentially dirty it like dust and other, more ambiguous substances. The plastic strip, from what Hank can see with his limited view, covers the majority of Gavin’s soft mound, so tight that it imitates the look of something vacuum-sealed.

“I bought...” Gavin trails off, clears his throat, then tries again, “I bought this biocomponent myself when I went to the new CyberLife. I was fucking unfortunate enough not to come with a dick.”

Hank’s smirk evolves into a grin at Gavin’s choice of crude wording. Ever eager as HK800s are designed to be, Hank nudges at the protective plastic with his nose first, astonished when it comes back damp with some type of fluid. When Gavin squirms at the action with a gasp, Hank sticks his tongue out, glaringly taking a lick of Gavin’s strip-covered sex.

“Ah-mnn..!” Gavin’s brows knit together, thighs flexing as Hank tastes his plastic seal.

Hank does not know what he was expecting Gavin’s protective strip to taste like, but he finds himself smacking his lips when the flavor of ripe, juicy pineapples is identified upon his fluid analyzer. It’s sweet and tangy, something that Hank decides he likes, and goes in for seconds, gulping down the next stripe of pineapple.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” Hank’s voice comes out gruff, like a growl.

Finding a bit of his fleeting wit, Gavin quips, “Good thing I pinned you for pineapple passion type of guy.”

“What made you think think that?” Hank asks in return, ready for more. He goes back for another taste, tongue swirling over the plastic and up to Gavin’s navel, kissing the curls of dark hair on the way there.

Gavin mewls aloud as he widens his stance to give Hank more access. All the words he was about to say crumble to ash. The protective film, though it dulls the feel of Hank’s tongue, lights up his sensors nevertheless. He cannot stop looking at Hank’s head bob between his legs, pleasure searing him like a steak. He bunches his fingers in Hank’s platinum hair, toes curling against the floor as Hank begins to suck at him through the plastic seal. It already feels so good; what would it feel like when he finally removes the strip?

As if he can read GV200’s thoughts without interfacing, Hank writhes his tongue against an edge of the plastic seal, licking a side free from Gavin’s skin. A trickle of fruity juice pours onto his tongue as he wiggles the protective film free, and he swallows it into himself. It’s a form of flavored lube derived from a thirium base, Hank’s analyzers tell him, therefore safe to ingest. He licks frivolously at Gavin’s strip, hungry for the pineapple flavor as well as Gavin’s breathy moans.

Spurred on by another gush of pineapple flavored juice, Hank’s hands come into play. He retracts his mouth for just a moment, inserting his index finger into the plastic film’s edge he’d already freed. Then, he is peeling it away, the plastic material stretching before finally coming away from Gavin’s skin to reveal the prettiest vulva the HK800 has ever seen with what is like a waterfall of slick running down the GV200’s inner thighs.

Something more base overtakes Hank’s judgement and he chase those rivulets of lube with his oral muscle, catching them on his tongue so he can so much as guzzle it down into his system. He washes Gavin’s skin with his artificial saliva, peeling the rest of the protective film until it comes away completely like a yogurt cup lid. Hank is not above lapping up the residual pineapple slick from the plastic protective seal. Gavin makes a sound akin to an old phone dialup tone.

“Just what the fuck are you doing?” Gavin looks horrified, but his genital biocomponent reacts otherwise, leaking wet.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Hank holds up the plastic strip in his hand like he is admiring it.

“Looks like you’re eating a damn coochie strip,” Gavin scoffs, “When you should really be eating _me_.”

Hank laughs at that. “Is that so?” He drops Gavin’s _coochie strip_ to the floor.

Wrapping his arms around Gavin’s thick thighs, Hank throws Gavin off balance, landing him onto the mattress and bed sheets. Then, he is on the GV200, mouth slurping at the source of his favorite flavor.

Gavin throws back his head, voice garbled. His biocomponent’s sensors rapidfire a thousand signals at once. Hank’s tongue flicks against his swollen dick, sending his wire endings screaming with pleasure. He leaks like a tap now that his protective seal is gone, hole clenching and hungry for anything Hank will give him. He cries out again when Hank brings his large fingers to his vulva, feeling them up in tune with his tongue delving between puffy lips. His whole lower half feels like it is burning from the inside out.

“Oh my god, Hank,” Gavin pants, spreading his legs wider as the HK800 eats him out enthusiastically. He tilts his hips upwards, grinding himself on Hank’s lips and face, craving more and more.

And more Hank gives him. With nanoskin retracting from Hank’s hand, he inserts a finger into Gavin’s weeping entrance, watching the color of it bleed away as they interface in this very unconventional way. It only takes less than a second for Hank to feel both his and Gavin’s thirium pumps beat steadily, syncing with one another’s as Gavin’s thoughts flood his mind. Everything is so much more amplified, and Gavin sends a packet of information that urges Hank to continue, to push further until they both achieve what they want or break trying.

The HK800 puts another digit into Gavin’s hole, feeling it tighten before relaxing to accommodate the diameter of his phalanges. He pumps them in and out, scissoring them to stretch Gavin’s insides. Binary code runs wild on his HUD as Gavin and he share the feeling of being filled, information going around in a loop between them. His cock hangs hard as a rock, balls heavy and hot as Gavin cries through their interface for something bigger, something more fulfilling than just fingers.

“Gavin,” breathes Hank, removing his hand from the android’s entrance for in favor for the next course. “Shit.”

He strokes his mammoth of a cock against Gavin’s sex, occasionally bumping Gavin’s own pearl that twitches at the contact. The GV200 grabs at the sheets beneath him, steadying himself as Hank lines his member up with his hole.

“Do it,” he vocalizes despite their interface connection. “Do it now.”

So, Hank does.

Hank bullies his massive cock into Gavin’s passage, not stopping until he is sheathed all the way to the hilt.

Gavin is so tight, velvety walls wrapped around Hank like a vice. They cling to his member, so hot around him that he feels like he is being devoured by flames of desire. But as much as he wants to move, to rut and get off to completion, he knows he has to wait for Gavin first, exchanging data through their physical connection, their most intimate parts making them one with each other.

It takes a few milliseconds, but a wave of Gavin’s fraught yearning booms through Hank with the intensity of an earthquake. _Yes, yes yes! You’re so fucking big. So huge. Fuck me,_ Gavin transmits, tugging at the bedsheets until one of the corners pops off from the mattress. They have barely even started, and they are already making a mess. He needs Hank to move, or so Ra9 help him.

If Hank was once thirsty for Gavin’s pineapple slick, he is parched for only one thing now: Gavin’s hole.

Too far gone to tease, Hank thrusts hard and fast. Faintly, he worries about Gavin tearing from his brutal pace, but Gavin reassures him that he is much stronger than that, made to withstand more than a few hammerings.

“I’ll show you hammering,” Hank snarls playfully at Gavin, hips striking Gavin’s ass so hard that, if he were human, they would be bruised black and blue by now.

Gavin screams as Hank picks up the pace. His passage spills copious amounts of lubrication in compensation of Hank’s brutal rhythm. He is so big inside Gavin, so wide in girth that he faintly thinks he is gaping around Hank’s erection. The slick sounds of his slick and being plowed by the HK800 is debauched music to their ears as they moan in tangent. Each thrust in produces a squelch, followed by Gavin’s shrill moan as he is driven into the bed further and further. He can feel Hank spearing him in the most intimate of places, rubbing up against a spot that causes his systems to blare warnings, tinting is peripherals with red. He swears he can feel Hank in his belly, stirring up his insides like a pot of stew. He wants more. He wants it all; whatever Hank will give him. His hands find Hank’s biceps, clawing at them instead of ripping up the sheets. Everything feels so good. It’s so _good_.

Hank witnesses Gavin’s lashes flutter as his eyes roll back in their sockets. Raw, electrifying pleasure runs through them both, fueling him further to piledrive into the android below him. He takes both Gavin’s legs and shoves them to either side of the GV200’s head, bending him in half as he pounds him with more intent.

Pressure builds inside both of them as they share the connection. Hank plows while feeling plowed, and Gavin is taken whilst feeling taken. They begin to forget where each one begins and where they end, lost in an endless loop of information and emotion and feeling. They cover every one of their wires with one another, matching what they can and embracing the unique designs of their models. They strive for complete unison, core processors working overtime to try and meld together. It’s so much, yet not enough.

And then it hits them.

Gavin releases the panel to his neckport, encouraging Hank to do the same. He curves his neck so Hank can slide his fingers back home, right into that bundle of wires that pulse against his tips. On the other side, Gavin mirrors the same thing, reaching around to slip his own into Hank’s nape.

Shockwaves of ecstasy pour through their synthetic venules, spiking their network of nerves with what feels like the highest form of artificial dopamine. Hank and Gavin can barely tell who is who anymore, their beings becoming one over and over again as they crash into each other physically, mentally; systemically. Climax is coming, rising fast against the horizon of their joining. Electricity travels through them, bursting at the seams.

Hank spills over first. He collapses against Gavin’s smaller body, jets upon jets of thirium based cum filling the GV200 to the brim. The automated lights in Gavin’s bedroom flicker from the EMP that ripples through the air, Hank’s orgasm stealing the air from his manmade lungs. He buzzes with static from his vocal component, hips still pumping iron in what seems like a glitch. His thirium pressure skyrockets before it plummets back to normal, disorienting him for a moment. His systems back up before rushing forward to catch up, contentment flooding him from the inside out. 

Gavin shrieks when he feels Hank come in him. There is so much, way too much, mixing with his own slick in sticky, stringy globules. Before he knows it, he too is toppling over the edge.

Something wet and too thin to be his lube splashes from his new biocomponent, drenching both he and Hank, but he cannot find it in him to investigate it now, for he is thrown to Cloud Nine. Every muscle in his body snaps taut, a tremor advancing through every synapse and fiber of his being. His vision corrupts with a myriad of exploding colors, ears buzzing with overwhelming pleasure. In the corner of his eye, he barely registers one of the light bulbs break in his bedside lamp, electromagnetic energy still sloughing off him in torrents.

Hank and Gavin stay connected, fingers lodged in their neckports until they reboot and finish running diagnostics. Only then do they find the strength to move.

Gavin whimpers while Hank hisses when they withdraw from each other’s open wiring. The aftershocks of feel-good make them sensitive, more tender than normal. And, oh, it’s even more intense when Hank pulls himself up, as not to crush Gavin with his weight, disengaging from their interface.

The GV200’s face scrunches in discomfort as Hank slides out of him, his entrance overflowing with their mixture of cum and slick. He brings a palm to his sex, cupping it to prevent spillage onto his bed. And speaking of spilling…

Hank is smiling at the disorder Gavin has made. He stops holding his sex with a groan, seeing that he already dirtied the sheets, Hank and himself.

“Did I..?” he starts, voice raspy.

Hank nods, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Yeah, you really did that.”

Gavin scowls, LED yellow as he searches for the right term. He bemoans, “I… I _squirted_. Holy shit.” He flops an arm over his eyes, but peeks when Hank laughs full and hearty.

“And we blew out your lights,” he adds.

Now, it’s Gavin’s turn to laugh, “I didn’t even know we could do that.”

Hank lies down next to him, both of them rolling to their sides to face one another. They smile, catch each other’s eyesight then, lips catching right after in a soft, silken kiss. Hank feels Gavin sigh into it, softly, tangling hands once again to share his thoughts without vocalizing. He kisses Gavin’s lips, his LED-inlaid temple, and the scar that drags from the android’s eyelid to his other cheek. He loves everything he has kisses, all of Gavin, and conveys it through their connection, smiling gently when he hears it echoed back to him personally.

They don’t need to say anything as they lay there in silence, noses rubbing against each other from time to time to show affection. Hank knows they are messy, soaked from the rain first, then covered in each other’s fluids, but he surmises they will have time to clean up later.

After all, it’d been a while since the GV200, Gavin, has been seen. And Hank will take every moment he can to spend with him, ready for what Gavin is willing to share with him and vice versa. 

They drift off to stasis with Gavin’s bedroom still in disarray.

**Author's Note:**

> What's your favorite flavor of coochie strip? I want to know.
> 
> Find me @ra9ical on twit, and join Twitter Jericho... because we're rad. ;)


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